


Blue Hair and Denim Hats

by Miss_Oswald



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, ethan nestor - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Ex-Boyfriends, F/M, Smut, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 03:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12160878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Oswald/pseuds/Miss_Oswald
Summary: Ex-boyfriends, and cats, and video stores, oh my!





	Blue Hair and Denim Hats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skylarlazuli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylarlazuli/gifts).



> Writing this was certainly a journey. It was a finicky little bastard, and I'm still not happy with how it turned out, but hopefully someone likes it. 
> 
> I was really nervous about writing Ethan, so I made up a 4 page outline and everything (note to self: no more 10000 word works when you're doing school full time xD)
> 
> Requested by: Skylarlazuli. I hope you like it! :)

I pick at my peeling black nail polish, trying in vain to focus on something other than the knot in my stomach. 

This is a good thing, I tell myself once again. It’s a step in the right direction. 

The bus rocks me softly back and forth and I press my warm forehead onto the cool window. Frosty condensation gathers at the corners and I trace a heart into it. The weathered man in front of me snaps his newspaper and flips the page. The smell of ink and fresh parchment makes itself known.

I did myself up real nice, setting for a fresh hair cut that makes my choppy brown locks sway right under my jawline, and a comfy new outfit that says I’m fashionable, I’m cozy, and I didn’t even try. It had been a long time since I’ve taken effort in my appearance. It had been far too easy not to care. To just cruise through life numbly, not taking time to really reflect on myself, or live truly. To see the days as just another boring, cookie-cutter day, the same as the rest. 

But it is different now. I’m different now.

Trees full of beautifully coloured leaves fly by in a blur of oranges and browns. I try to still myself to this moment— to appreciate the beauty around me. Why should I be nervous when about my first day when I can instead marvel at my favourite season?

Because that’s who you are and what you do, a taunting voice jabs at me. You can’t change that. 

I push the thought aside and hold the bright yellow book that sits in my lap tighter. It’s one of those self-help books, the kind that makes you look into a mirror and say that you love yourself. It’s a little more out there and weirder than I’m comfortable with, but with everything that happened last year, I’m willing to try just about anything to feel a little bit better. To feel a little bit more in control.

“Next Stop: Ottawa Street,” the robotic feminine voice announces.

I press the button and stand up from my seat. I tug my over-sized sweater around my torso and make my way to the doors. The bus slows to a stop and the doors fly open, a burst of wind nipping at my face. I say a quick thank-you before jumping out, the chill instantly penetrating the fabric of my pants. 

WHITE OAKS VIDEO 

The store looms over me in it’s entirety. The building looks ancient with it’s old brick and fanciful structure. Two small, twin towers sit at each end of the building and a neat stone trim covers the edges. The white sign hangs from the middle from a cast iron pole. 

It looks more than a little intimidating. 

Suddenly I hear a soft meow from below me. A skinny cat with the brightest white fur I’d ever seen slinks between my legs and presses up against my shin. I smile, bending down to pet it. It meows at me, bumping it’s head into my hand and I scratch under it’s chin. The cat looks up at me, it’s jade eyes so big and round they nearly take up it’s entire face. 

“I have to go to work, sweetheart. But thank you for the welcome.” 

I give the cat a few more pets before reluctantly pulling away. I wave goodbye before I look both ways and cross the street, jogging. 

There’s a lonely rusted orange hippy bus that sits in the side lot. In the store window, there’s a sign in white and blue that reads CLOSED. I walk up, my heart beating a tattoo against my ribs, and knock on the heavy maroon door. 

A crash rings from inside and a women’s voice yells “fuck.”

I waiting patiently, gripping my book so hard it bites into my skin. I chew at my bottom lip, pulling at the skin so hard it stings. 

The door flies open to reveal a women in her late thirties, not the same person that hired me on. She’s wearing a navy blue cardigan and a matching pencil skirt. Her dark brown hair is wound into a tight bun to the back of her head. Her eyes are round and large, making her look doe-eyed and surprised and she wears a pleasant smile on her lips. 

“You’re early,” she says, holding the door open enough for me to come inside. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t late.”

“It’s no problem. Just follow me through here to the back, and we’ll get you started.” She locks the door behind us and leads me to another door that leads to the area behind the counter. 

The opens it and immediately there’s a few black wire racks that are attached to the small wall there. If you keep walking, the area opens up to the large backroom. Two large wooden tables sit in the middle of the room, and a massive shelf is attached to the farther one. Up against the wall on the right hand side sit these black metal filing cabinets.

“Here is where we keep all of our new releases,” she says, guiding me into the back room. On the left are the same kind of massive shelves that are on that wooden table. Inside there are disks lined up in clear plastic cases. 

She pulls me to the middle of the room and points to the left. “Cash is there,” she says, pointing to the front counter. She then points to the right. “Back room where we keep all the older disks are here.” 

She walks up and pulls on one of the top drawers on the filing cabinet. Inside are disk sleeves, more movies than I can count. In the corner of each pocket is a sticker with a number on it.

“Each disk has their own number, each customer has their own number. They’re all in order in these drawers here. From 1,” she says, before walking over to the last one at the end of the room. “To 85549. 85550 and up will be on the new release shelfs over there. Any questions so far?”

Yeah, about a million, I say to myself. I shake my head no.

“Good.” She extends her hand. “I’m Chloe by the way. Oh—” She runs deeper into the room where a giant metal thing is perched onto the wall. She grabs a long card and drops it into the slit in the top of the machine. “You have to punch in and out, got it?”

I nod. I thought those clock-in machines where a thing of the past.

“You’re aloud to talk, you know.” Chloe smirks at me.

“Right,” my tongue is heavy in my mouth. “Sorry, I don’t really talk much.”

“Is there a name I can call you by?”

“Most people call me Bunny.” It was a nickname that I’d carried along with me for so long, it was hard to remember it wasn’t my actual name.

“Bunny. Cute. Should we get started?”

“Sounds good to me.” I smile.

Chloe leads me to the side counter by the metal racks. Underneath the counter is a built-in wooden box with a pillow inside to catch movies and a computer sits on top to the side. She grabs a few cases.

“There’s a sticker on the disk that has a number on it. All you have to do is type it into the returns computer to check it in, and then place it on the rack there. If it’s an old release, it goes on the bottom. If it’s new, the top. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Awesome. So that’s going to be your job for today. Checking in movies, sorting them, and then putting them away in the back. You’ll also notice when you put a return back in it’s sleeve, it will have a little tag with the movie number and title written on it. Just take that out and later you’ll put them back out onto the floor onto their proper cases.”

I nod at the information overload, trying to keep it all in my head so I won’t mess it all up later. 

Chloe gives me a quick nod and makes her way to the door. “If you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Okay.”

 

The hours later go very smoothly, and I feel myself getting used to the job already. It’s eery how comfortable I feel in this new space, as if I’ve been working here a few weeks rather than a few hours. 

Chloe makes nice chat with the customers and seems to always have a smile on her face. The people who shop here seem to be nice, and some faces are familiar. The guy that works at the sherbet shop with his freckled face and big ears. The old women who seems to be a permanent fixture behind a desk every time I walk into the town’s library. The blonde girl and her stunning mother who I used to pass on the sidewalk every day to college. 

I like it here, a voice inside my head dares to whisper, and I can’t help but agree. It feels right, like I’ve finally taken a step in the right direction. 

I finish up the returns and have a clipboard with a bunch of tags stuck onto it when the phone rings. Chloe answers, listens, and she bristles. Whatever conversations she’s having, it isn’t a pleasant one. 

Part of me want to stay by her side to comfort her, but I also realize how inappropriate that would be. I’m a stranger and her employee. It’s best to not get involved.

I go out onto the floor and make my way around the back wall where all the new release cases are. I stick the tags onto their proper cases, smiling kindly as I pass the few customers that litter the store. I put my last tag out when I hear my name being called.

“Bunny,” Chloe calls out.

I jog back to the counter to find her white-faced and worried.

“There was an emergency at home, and I have to go.”

Panic licks up my spin at the thought of being here alone. It’s my first day, I don’t know how cashier works, or the deals or the format— 

“I’ve called someone else in, and he should be here in a few minutes. He lives right around the block, thank God.” Chloe says, playing with her necklace nervously. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

Chloe shakes her head, a forced casual smile appearing on her lips. “It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine,” she says, as if she’s trying to convince herself it to be true.

I smile reassuringly at her.

A man in a baseball jersey strolls up to the counter, and Chloe’s face completely changes. She turns into this happy women once again, eager to help. I slip to the side counter, punching in the returns into the computer before putting them back onto the shelves, pulling the correct tags that stick to the wood as I go. 

A few minutes later, the door chimes. The person walks straight to the back door. His footsteps are prominent but almost careful as well, as if he’s very aware of his physicality. The back door creeks open and Chloe gives a sigh of relief.

“Ethan! Thank God!”

My stomach drops and my body goes rigid, my hand holding a clear case frozen in mid air. It’s covered in scratches that groove into the clear flesh of the plastic. The number is 86001. I scan the numbers over and over again, desperate for something solid to focus on. My mind reels and my heart beats so hard I feel like I’m going to cry.

Not Ethan, my mind begs. Please, not my Ethan.

“Bunny?” Chloe calls.

I bite the inside of my lip. There’s no reason to hide, but I can’t get my body to move.

“Bunny?” Ethan asks to himself, the realization dawning on him too. 

It is my Ethan.

There’s nothing more I want to do than to run out of here and never come back. Pretend that Ethan is a part of my past, where I was determined to keep him forever. 

“Bunny?” Chloe prompts again and this time my body jolts. 

I put the case down onto the shelf and walk out into the side counter area. As I turn the corner my eyes find his, and they are just as surprised as the day when I first kissed him. It’s a terrible sight to see as the memory of his lips on mine hits me full force. He tasted the jelly beans and Smirnoff. 

“Ethan,” I say shortly. 

He pulls the hair that peeks out of the opening on his backwards denim baseball hat. It’s the complete opposite of the dark, natural shade that I’m used to. It’s this strange pastel hybrid of baby blue and silver, and it looks soft like cotton candy.

As much as he is my Ethan, he is also not my Ethan.

“Bunny?” He asks in the same tone.

Chloe exchanges a curious glance between us as tension rises in the hair. She swipes her purse from the back, watching us as we stare at each other out of the corner of her eye. 

“Play nice kids.” She whizzes past us in a flurry of blue and panic, and the door chimes as she leaves. 

His eyes look bluer than the last time I saw them. Staring into them makes me ache in a way that makes me almost sick. They remind me of all the things we used to do. How he’d look when I had said something particularly silly and he would stare at me, mesmerized in awe. When he would tell me he loves me and I had never seen eyes so honest and sincere since.

It’s painful and I hate him for being back into my life. I want to punch him so hard his nose ruptures and floods the entire floor with his blood. 

The air around us feels heavy and sits against my shoulders in a pressing weight. 

Ethan clears his throat and offers up a careful smile. 

“How’ya doing, Bun-Bun?”

The nickname strikes me right in the back. He says it as if we’re cool, as if we’re friends. As if he didn’t destroy me. A rage blooms low in my belly.

“You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.”

He steps back and looks to the floor, his cheeks warming with colour. He sticks his hands in his pockets, his shoulders bunching up to his ears.

“Sorry. Old habits, y’know?” His voice is low and sad.

“Yeah.” It comes out dry and unforgiving, and though I don’t mean it, it still makes me feel a little bad. 

“So, uh… how’ve you been?” He looks up but his eyes look everywhere but in my direction.

“Fine.”

He nods slowly and stubs his toe into the ground, scuffing up the floor. 

“I should probably get back to work,” I say, turning and bee-lining to the back room. Once I get there, I remember I didn’t actually grab any cases to put back. My pride won’t let me go back. 

In the corner sits a broom and a dust pan. I make my way to it and start sweeping up all the dirt and dust that covers the black tile floor. I let my mind wander, detaching from my chore at hand. 

How am I back here, again? I was finally starting to move on. And what the hell is he doing working here? The one place that finally hired me on. Why here, why now, why me?

I grit my teeth to stop the memories from resurfacing, to stop the feelings that had taken me so fucking long to bury and put to rest. But it feels as if they’re right at the surface, like a volcano and after all these years of rest, is finally ready to erupt and release everything that had been buried deep down. It was cracking and bleeding back into my life with it’s ugly truth— I wasn’t good enough for him.

The truth hits me harder than a fist in the gut. It was humiliating because no matter how much I loved him, it would never be enough. I would never be enough. 

And just seeing his face again puts me back to all those months ago when I stood in front of him, begging him to not leave me. I didn’t care how pathetic I looked, or was. My need for him overshadowed all rational, decent thought. I begged him to stay, like a grovelling dog. With tears streaming down my face, I begged him to not tear me apart.

But he did anyway.

I can’t be here with him. It’ll kill me.

It doesn’t take me long to realize that I’ve been sweeping the same spot for ten minutes. 

“All set, John?” I hear Ethan say in a cheery voice.

“Yes, sir,” comes the quick reply. He sounds like an elderly, weathered man.

Ethan’s footfalls creep towards me and I turn my back to him, focusing on sweeping a spot beside the filing cabinets. He opens one of the drawers. I feel his eyes burning holes into the back of my head. 

“Have you started on cash yet?” He asks casually.

“It’s my first day, Ethan.” 

“Oh. Right.” He closes the draw and pops the disk into a clear case. He stalls for a minute and I can almost hear the words forming in his head.

Just go. Please. 

Ethan makes his way back to the front counter.

“So, I heard you got that apartment you wanted. Good on you, kid.” John says.

“Yeah, the one by the bay. It took a while, but it was definitely worth the wait.” 

It feels like another jab. Look how much better he’s doing than you, the voice says. He’s got his own fancy place by the water. You still live with your mother.

I can’t help the tears that sting the corner of my eyes. I frustratingly wipe them away, leaving an angry red scratch down my cheek. 

Stop being a baby. 

I lean against the cabinets to steady myself to take a deep breath. When I open my eyes I see my cheery self-help book staring at me from the wooden table, accusingly. 

I grab the broom tight in my hands, the rigid grooves near the top biting into my skin. I close my eyes and take a deep, calming breath. In for four beats, out for four beats. I do it again and again until I feel myself grounded to the floor. The sick feeling subsides a little. My anger fades into a simmering, low dull. 

We are all on our own journeys. I am exactly where I need to be, and I let myself be. I have food in my belly and a home to shelter me. I have a mother who cares and the internet to keep me busy. I am okay, and I am doing just fine.

I bring myself back to the space, opening my eyes. Ethan is still chatting with John, and they flow into a natural, blossoming conversation. 

I tune them out as best I can, but I catch some words. Youtube. Apartment. Los Angeles. Molly. It try to let his many accomplishments and successes roll off of me like water on a raincoat but they stick to me like glue.

Wait… 

Who the fuck is Molly?

“How is your computer program… thing?” John asks. “You have more people watching?”

Ethan laughs and it dances up my spine. “My channel’s doing really good, thanks. I’m almost to a quarter.”

“A quater?”

“Sorry, a quarter of a million.” 

“All those people watch you? Dear, I couldn’t imagine. Don’t you get nervous?” 

“A little,” he says, his voice a little squeaky. “But mostly it’s exciting. I get to talk to a lot of people, and most of them are really nice.”

“Wow. I couldn’t imagine something like that back in my day.” John sighs, deep and slow. “It’s truly amazing.”

“It is pretty neat.”

They say their goodbyes and I bend down to sweep the dust mites into the pan. I dump it in the trash cash, dust billowing up the sides and I dodge backwards, coughing.

Ethan slinks to the back, leaning up against the side of the large shelf that’s against the wooden table. He crossed his arms around his chest and I note that he’s wearing a bright blue tee that says Wowie on the front and a button up denim shirt to match his hat and jeans. 

He looks like Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears when they went onto the red carpet together.

“How’s your Ma doing? I heard she was starting her own business.” 

Warmth floods my face.

“It’s doing really well. She’s really happy.” The lie rolls of my tongue easily, but I can’t meet his eyes. 

It did do really well. At first. So well in fact that my mom quit her full-time desk job to pursue her dreams. 

Who knew a few months later she’d be begging for her job back, only to be thrown aside, and now we’re struggling to pay rent, and college, and bills and food. 

A terrible thought swims into my head. 

He knew. That’s why he asked. He want to see you in pain.

No, I tell myself, with more certainty than I thought I could muster in me. He may be a insensitive prick, but I know him. He would never. 

“That’s real good, Bun—Bunny,” he corrects himself quickly. “I knew your Ma could do it.”

A wave of sadness overcomes me and tears blur my vision. I quickly turn my back on him.

“Yeah. Me too.”

I wipe my eyes, desperate for a change of subject. 

“So, who’s Molly?”

My stomach flutters. Any other subject would have been better than that. Now I look desperate and clingy.

“My girlfriend.” It comes out like a quip comment. 

Girlfriend. I thank God that my back is to him. The word hurts more than when I first saw him. Being away from him was one thing, but him moving on… that was something I can’t bear to imagine. 

And that’s when I realize how hung up I still am by him. The fact that I am still his, after all this time apart. I still think of myself as his. And although I knew that he would move on eventually, the reality of it seemed so far away from my mind that it basically couldn’t be real. But it is. I am still his, but he is not mine. Not anymore. 

Why wasn’t I enough for him? What the fuck does this Molly girl have that I don’t? 

What is wrong with me?

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. I find myself detaching from my duties, doing them without really thinking about what I’m doing. Ethan continues to talk to me and I give him short winded answers. I just can’t wait until my shift is over, and I’m able to go home. 

My insides feel as if they’re filled with worms. I just want to go home. 

Thunder cracks outside as a heavy storm rolls in. It’s near closing time and they’re hasn’t been a customer over the past half hour. Rain begins to pound heavy onto the roof. I’m putting tags out on the horror section when I hear a loud meow coming from outside. 

I blink and run towards the entrance door, ripping it open.

The white cat from before rushes past me and scatters across the dark floor, leaving a trail of rain water in it’s wake. It gallops to the front counter and hops up on it, shaking the water off of it’s fur. 

Ethan giggles in that goofy way of his, holding his arms out in front of him as he gets pelted with water. 

I smile. 

At the cat.

“You need some shelter, little girl?” Ethan asks. He holds his hand out to her, I suppose. The cat sniffs his skin carefully. Her pink nose goes from his middle finger to his ring finger the his pinky knuckle. Her little tongue comes out and licks the skin there. 

“Aw. You’re welcome.”

I hold the clipboard to my chest. Ethan cocks his head to me, asking me to join him. 

I chew on my lip. I mean, there’s a cat over there. That’s all that really matters. 

I go through the back door to join his side at the counter, putting my clipboard down. 

The cat turns her attention to me, blinking up at me. She appears to recognize me and she give me a hearty meow, walking right up to the edge of the counter in front of me. She hops up, putting her cold paws on my chest. I laugh freely as she nuzzles her head into the crook of my neck. 

I can’t help but smile whenever I’m in the company of animals. There’s something about them that I can connect with them in a way that I can’t with humans.

Her fur is damp as I run my hands over her soothingly. She smells like rain, wet fur, and flowers, and I can’t help the smile that forms on my face as she purrs. 

“She likes you.”

I peek over at Ethan and he’s smiling at me. 

“I saw her on my way here. She welcomed me to my new job.” I’m still smiling as I say this. 

“Maybe she’s your familiar.”

I huff. “Maybe. I think I’d have to be a witch first though.”

“I hope that’s still on your bucket list.”

“Of course.”

“And dance.”

An easy laugh comes from my chest. I’m smiling so wide it hurts my cheeks.

“Oh, I used to love to dance.”

A beat passes between us.

“I remember,” he says. 

My eyes flash to his and he doesn’t move them away. Something sparks between us, a remembrance of how well we used to know each other. How familiar each other’s bodies used to me. My heart picks up pace. 

His hazel-blue eyes stare into me, so deep that it hurts.

“Lana was your favourite.” His voice turns lower in volume, almost as if he’s afraid of saying it.

Please, as much as I loved Lana Del Rey, he liked her more. Actually, he liked me on Lana. How I would dress in flowy dresses, how I would look at him as if he were a king. How I would dance on him like he was paying for it.

“Our favourite.”

We turn quiet. I feel the air on my skin. 

His shoulder shifts, as if he wanted to reach out but thought better of it. 

After all, he has another girlfriend already, but I can still remember his touch.

I remember the curve of his spine. The scars of his acne. The veins in his forearms. The feeling of his long fingers that would encircle my ankles. The thick corded muscle of his thighs from years of gymnastics. The dip of his sternum on his chest that I would tease while he held me in his arms. The softness of his eyelids as he would be lost in sleep. The firmness and strength of his entire body as he would hold be tightly against him. 

The words he would whisper in my ear. The promises he would make.

The promises that he would later break.

The worst thing was that he never told me why. How was I supposed to move on from him when I didn’t get closure? When there was an end without any reason?

You can’t be in love with someone one day and then not the next without a reason. 

The cat nudges her nose on my chin and scratch behind her ears. 

“Time to close up.” Ethan makes his way to the door, his keys in hand. He flips over the OPEN sign and locks the door. 

Lightning strikes against the sky, lighting up the darkness that sits outside this door. The rain is deafening as it hits the roof, it’s heavy drops many and large. A chill slivers through the cracks in the walls and seeps through the air. The wind whistles loud and angry and high pitched. The storm rages louder and more terrifying as the minutes trickle past. 

“You can leave those for me tomorrow. Take a seat in the back and relax.”

“Kay.” 

I shuffle to the back, the cat trailing behind me. I pull out a chair on the wooden table without the shelf and park my butt in it. I open my book, trying to ignore the raging storm outside. The cat jumps up on the table and lays down beside my elbow. 

Ethen joins me not too long later with the cash tray, a calculator, a pen and a small notebook. He sits down across from me, taking off his denim hat and running his fingers through his messy blue hair. He shrugs off his button up shirt and I look up at him from under my lashes. 

He’s grown into the broadness of his shoulders. 

He doesn’t look like the high school boy I used to know. Where I’m used to long, lanky, awkward limbs, he now has muscle. He holds his body with confidence. His eyes are no longer doe eyed and unsure. He no longer holds that finicky, anxious air around him. Even his voice doesn’t have that squeaky quality to it anymore.

He looks like a man. It’s a weird sight to see. He’s so familiar and so foreign to me at the same time. 

I wonder what else is different. 

We sit in silence; me reading my self-help book and Ethan tallying up the cash for the day. The cat falls into slumber, her belly rising and falling softly, her paws under her chin. We listen to the storm together.

It’s a half hour later when Ethen locks the cash in the back storage area.

“All done?” I ask him, looking up from my book. 

He gives me a lop-sided smile. “I wish. I still have a bit of work to do, but you can head home if you’d like.” 

I take a peek to the windows. The trees dance violently from the wind and water gathers in the streets. A crack of thunder hits so hard that the floor rumbles underneath my seat. 

As much as I’d like to run away home, I can’t leave him alone here. Not on a night like this. If something were to happen to him, I don’t know how I could forgive myself. 

And the cat. Lord knows I can’t leave the cat. 

“I’ll stay.” 

I catch his eyebrow lift up in surprise as I turn my attention back to my book. 

“Cool. Cool.” I can hear the smile in his voice. 

Ethan shuffles along the table, grabbing a large pile of stacked DVDs. He begins sorting through them, putting them in a few different piles. He leans his hip against the edge of the table and out of the corner of my eye I can see how tight the light denim stretches across his lap. 

My ears turn pink. 

“I can help,” I say, closing my book. 

I look up at him, the familiar gaze of this angle striking me. 

“Sure,” he chirps, giving me a different stack of movies. “Movies with a category sticker go here, ones without go here, and ones with a White Oaks Video sticker go here. Some we’re going to sell off.”

“Kay.”

I take the stack and pull the chair out from behind me so I have room to sort. We fall into an easy, comfortable silence as we work. 

He moves around me to get another stack of DVDs. As he passes behind me, his warm hand rests on my lower back. He’s so close to me that I can distinguish his familiar scent; Old Spice and the fresh scent of his shampoo. There’s something else that is there, underneath the surface that I can’t put my finger on. It’s appealing and manly and makes me wish for him to stay right here. 

Ethan settles back beside me closer than before, a massive pile of DVDs in his slim hands. I notice as he moves half a breath closer to me. The places where his arm brushes against mine tingle and sing as skin touches skin. 

Dozens of minutes pass as we work in silence. With every accidental, casual touch, every nerve in my body stands at attention. As terrible as it is, I wait with bated breath for the next one to come. And when it does, a sweet jolt of surprise and excitement sparks through me. 

“Bunny,” he whispers, and I look up into his hazel eyes. Ethan smiles, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. It’s a deliberate action that has deliberate consequences, because I refuse to not only get pulled back into the old me, but I will not help him cheat on his girlfriend.

And if this is how he treats women now, I want nothing to do with him. 

“No, stop.” I swat his hand away from me. 

Ethan steps back, giving me space. He stares at me as if I kicked his puppy.

“You can’t— you can’t do this to me again. And your girlfriend—“

“Molly isn’t my girlfriend.” He runs his hand down his face. “She’s my cat. I don’t know why I said girlfriend.”

“What the heck, Ethan?” 

“It was just seeing you after all this time…” He puts his hands into his pockets, a tortured look coming across his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

I stare at him, my arms hugging my torso. 

“It hurt.. Seeing you again,” he says, looking down at the ground.

I could claw his face right now.

“It hurt?” I ask, squinting my eyes at him. “You’re not allowed to be fucking hurt. You broke up with me, remember?”

Ethan recoils as if I had struck him. 

“Yeah, well it broke my heart too, okay?”

“Oh, screw you. You don’t get to act like a hurt puppy when you’re the one that killed us.” 

He falls into silence, staring down at his toes. I watch carefully as his teeth pull at the skin from his lips. They tremble. A tear rolls down his cheek and splatters to the floor. 

I shake my head, my body shaking with fury. 

He broke up with me. He destroyed every positive memory we shared together. He wrecked me beyond oblivion, and now he’s acting as if I were the one that done it. 

“Why?” I demand.

He looks up at me, tears swimming in his eyes. He chews on his lip so hard a speck of blood rises. It’s not an anxious biting of his lip. I recognize his face.

It’s the same face I looked at the night he broke up with me. But it wasn’t on him. It was in the mirror. 

“Why are you now—“ I rock into myself.

“After everything that—“ I stop, the words choking me. 

Those aren’t the questions I want to ask. 

“Why did you leave me?” I try to keep my voice strong, but it comes out as a whimper. 

I choke on a sob and before I can help it, my face is scrunching up and ugly tears overcome me, spilling onto my cheeks. I tuck my chin to my chest to hide from him, biting at my lip in vein to stop the hysterics that rumble through my chest. I can’t help but sob, these fat ugly tears hitting the ground and shame floods me as I break down in front of him once again. 

It’s been ages, but I’m still the same person that he dumped. 

Ethan reaches out for me and I rip away from his grasp, a new fit of tears erupting from me. 

“Don’t!” I warn. “I can’t. Please, Ethan. I can’t.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Bun-Bun.” He moves towards me once again, this time falling to his knees to keep from scaring me away. 

His actions confuse me. A rumble of thunder cracks outside. 

“Stop it,” I beg him. 

He looks up at me, his blue hair a mess and his eyes rimmed with red. 

“Please believe me when I say that I thought it was for the best.” His eyes are sincere and it makes his statement all the more insulting.

“You don’t get it do you? Could you imagine how it feels to need someone in your life so bad— someone who will be there and you can depend on when everything else turns to shit— turns on you? You were I one person I never, never, thought would hurt me. The one goddamn person on this entire shit planet that I thought I could trust. I didn’t even entertain the thought— didn’t even see it as a possibility. Because you promised me, over and over again, and I told you things, and you held me and promised me—“ 

Ethan hooks a hand around my calf to console me, but a sense of revulsion comes from me instead. 

I hate him. 

He’s crying in earnest now, as if every word is like a knife twisting in his heart.

“You needed to move on from me, you had a future that you were going to throw away because of me.”

I’m stunned into silence. 

“That’s why?” I laugh, the sound twisted and cruel and wrong. “That was not for you to decide! It was my life, my future! You—“ 

I can’t find a worse enough word to sum up all my feelings for him. 

“I hated doing that to you, I never felt more disgusted with myself in my entire life. I hated being the one that made you cry. But you had a shot at something, and I couldn’t let you turn it down because of me.” 

“You have no idea what you did to me, do you?” I whisper.

“It couldn’t be as bad as what I did to myself, Bunny. I had to be the one who broke us.”

“For months I couldn’t breathe. Every single thing that used to make me happy now had your tainted hands all over it. There was this rot inside of me that didn’t go away, not matter what I tried. I turned into an entirely different person. One who hated waking up, hated everything that I used to love.”

“I had to—“ 

“No you didn’t. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. And you don’t get to hide behind that excuse. God, I hate you. I hate you so much.” 

I was happy. You were my entire world. My future starred you. It was my life. My choice. You had no right to take that away from me.

The fact that we could have still been together, could still have had the entire future we had planned out for ourselves. All of that thrown away because he decided that I wasn’t capable enough to make my own decisions with my own life.

Ethan smothers his face into my tummy, clutching onto me like a scared child. I use my sleeves to wipe the new tears that fall from my eyes, refusing to console him.

We could have been together this entire time. The thought revolves around in my head over and over. All of the pain and heartache was for nothing.

He stands up and I realize now how much taller he had gotten. I have to tilt my chin up to look him in the eye. He’s sniffling, wet tracks glistening off his cheeks. 

“Would you believe me if I said that I think about that every day? That it’s the thing I regret most from my life. You know how much I love you.”

A sob breaks through my lips and I try to smother it by crying into my palm. 

I had dreamed of him saying that to me once again. I had begged every God out there for it. 

“I can’t believe you. I can’t believe someone who really loved me would be okay with causing me that much pain. You knew it would wreck me Ethan. You had to know.”

“I did. I thought I was being noble. I was being an fucking idiot.”

He cups my face in his warm hands and I let him. I stare down at a wet spot on his shirt. He runs his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping my tears away. I keep my arms wrapped around myself.

He sighs, his lower lip trembling. 

“Baby.” It comes out so low that I doubt he wanted me to hear it. 

It feels as if my entire body is ripping up in shreds, the string stitching me together finally unraveling. My entire body shakes.

“Can I hold you? Please, fucking God, can I hold you?” He rests his forehead onto mine. 

I nod, if only for the reason that I’ll have something to keep me together.

Ethan pulls me into his chest, his long arms wrapping tightly around me. He squishes me into his body, and although I still have my arms across my chest, I can feel the solid, rock hard strength of him against me. There’s no soft, strange edges to him anymore. He smells like musk and salt and I cry into his shirt, staining it with my tears. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I pull my arms from between our bodies and wrap them around him, holding onto him as hard as I can.

After all those months… After everything… 

I take a breath that feels like hope and it doesn’t hurt. It comes easily and deeply, as if I had just burst through the surface after being submerged in water for so long.

“This still feels right, doesn’t it?” He asks carefully, his voice wavering. 

His heart beats against my chest a million miles a minute. My fingertips dig into the muscle of his back. I take a moment to feel his energy, the anxious, beautiful, hopeful pulse of it. 

I does. It still does. I still fit into the curves of his body, and he latches onto me as if nothing had changed. As if were weren’t simply two ex lovers, standing in the devastation of their ruin, the beautiful fullness of their relationship that used to be so alive, now dead and crumbled at their feet. 

“Yes.” 

An impossible boom explodes from the heavens. The force of it shakes the room. The lights flicker on and off in quick succession. The world tilts as Ethan pulls me with him to the floor. A resounding crash hits the floor, inches away from us. The cat hisses and scampers to the front counter to hide. 

I lay on top of him, my pulse rushing through my ears. The first cabinet that sits on top of another lays beside us. It has to weigh over 150 pounds. 

“Christ,” I whisper.

I go to push myself up, but he holds me tight to him. I look down at him, my hands folded in the middle of his chest and his thigh between my legs. His eyes are drying but still red and swollen, making the blue in them look brighter. 

When I woke up this morning, I never thought in a million years that I would be back in his arms again.

A part of me hates him. Hates him so much for the needless heartache he put me through. The fire is still present and raging in my veins. But another part of me, as buried as I try to make it, wants to take him. Take him for everything he’s worth. Take him in a way that would satiate the burning fire in me, to show him my fury and own him like he owns me. 

What kills me is that, although he may look more like a man now, he still looks as innocent as ever. Time didn’t change that, just like nothing else ever had. No matter what we did, however naughty or depraved, he always still kept that same youthful, boyish innocence. And he still has it now.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispers, his eyes trailing a path from my eyes to my lips. 

I swallow thickly, my mouth suddenly dry. “Shut up.”

“I still know you.”

“Shut up,” I repeat.

“I can feel you already,” Ethan presses down on my spine and lifts his thigh, grinding it into me. 

“No.’’ I don’t know what I’m protesting— I don’t even know why I say it. 

“Yes, I can. I know your scent. The flutter of your eyes. Why you won’t let go of your lip. Or look me in the eye. You could fool all these others boys, but you can’t fool me. I know you. Bunny.” He says my name like this, seductive and accusing, when he wants to remind me of his take on my little nickname.

(“Bunny? Because you like to fuck like a jackrabbit?”)

“You’re a smug cunt.”

Ethan bursts out laughing and I can’t help but crack a smile. 

“I mean, yeah I am, a little. Just a teensy bit. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong though.” 

Ethan shifts front underneath me, wrapping his arms around my waist. One of his hands trails down the curve of my spine and slides over the top curve of my ass. I cock an eyebrow at him. 

All he does is smile sweetly up like me. It reminds of one of those brat kids that would get away with murder because they had the same smile. 

I stare into his eyes, and underneath the joy I see the pain in there too. Even though he tries to hide it, it’s impossible for me to miss. 

I couldn’t imagine being the one that ended us. I never could have done it. 

“I’m really sorry.” He says it so bluntly and so honestly.

He waits patiently for my reply. I struggle with what to say. 

“I know.”

Ethan gets a little uncharacteristically ballsy as he squeezes the meat of my ass hard, causing me to rut against his leg. The action makes my clit drag against his muscle, sending a shockwave of lust through me. A surprised moan rips from my throat. 

The moan makes us both freeze. We stare at each other. My heart beats impossibly loud in my ears. I count his eyelashes. His sweet breath hits my lips. 

I remember how he used to touch me. The curl of his fingers inside of me. The gentle gnaw of his teeth on my ass. The grip of his hand around my wrists. 

Most of all, I remember his moans. I was always the most greedy for his desperate, whiney, breathy little moans.

He squeezes my ass again, this time pulling me against him in a slow drag. The pressure is delicious between my legs, sending bursts of pleasure between my legs. I slowly begin to grow warm. My panties turn damp.

He pulls me closer to him. My nose bumps against his. His breath is hot on my lips. He smells of mint and cola. He curls his fingers over my inner wrist, his nails scratching the tender flesh. My body shivers, tingles running over the sensitive lips of my pussy.

“Unfair!” I gasp. “You know all my spots.” Get me mad, and then make me want to fuck you.

“Don’t you forget it.” 

And to prove a point, his nails dance over the same spot, this time a little harder and I bite my lip to hold my moan in. 

“Oh, I hate him. I hate him so much,” I think to myself as I leak my lust all over his thigh.

I yank my arms away from him and swing my leg over his hips to straddle him. When he tries to lean himself on his elbows, I push my hands against his chest and his hits the ground with a huff. I sit upright and close my eyes, using his body for my pleasure. 

I roll my hips against him and, to my un-surprise, his cock his full and hard.

“Oh,” Ethan gasps, and I look down to find him looking up at me wide eyed. 

I quirk an eyebrow at him, staring deeply into his eyes as I drag myself over every inch of his length. I do it over and over again, and he stares up at me in awe. I do it so hard my back aches at the unnatural arch of my spine.

A soft whimper escapes his mouth. 

“Fuck me.” Ethan’s eyes slip closed as they roll to the back of his head. He writhes under me, breathless and begging. “Fuck me, please.”

I tremble at his words my desire growing so large so and so quick it fogs my brain. He squirms underneath me, little wanton moans slipping past his lips. 

“Just as slutty as I day I met you, Ethan.” 

He grins up at me, trying to focus his eyes. “Only for you.”

My lust overshadows all rational thought as I lean down and slam my lips against his. He’s unprepared for my attack, stumbling as he tries to kiss me back. The sharp scruff on his cheeks scrape into the sensitive skin of my lips, leaving a burning feeling. 

He opens his mouth and I push my tongue inside. The moment mine slides against the hot wetness of his, a needy moan escapes me. He wraps his arms tight against my lower back, crushing me against him. He holds me there as if he as no intent of ever letting me go again. 

The kiss fills me with need. My pussy aches for him. Aches in a way that it hasn’t in a long time. Aches for the need to be filled again by him. I don’t want to go slow. I don’t want to kiss. I don’t want to play. 

I just want to fuck. 

I tangle myself out of his grasp, a little too difficult for my liking, and wiggle down his legs. I pop his button and— 

“Whoa, whoa, Bun-Bun.”

“Please.”

“I want to make love to you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“And I wanna fuck.” 

I can’t take sweetness and slowness right now. Not when there’s a fire so bright in me it feels as if I’m going to explode. I’m desperate for release, and passion, and I need it now. 

We pause, staring into each other’s eyes. I stay patient, waiting with bated breath for his response. His hazel eyes find my eyes, then my lips, and lastly to my spot where my hand hovers over his zipper. 

He nods, “Okay, babe. I’ll give you what you need. Promise.”

Ethan guides me off his lap and stands up. He pulls me to him, picking me up with such force and quickness a yelp escapes me. My boots fly to the floor.

I lock my legs around his lower back. I’m straight in front of him, almost nose to nose, that I have no choice but to look at him. He sets me down carefully on the table. A misplaced movie case digs into my butt. 

Ethan kisses me again, using to his tongue to turn my body into goo. I have to arch my head back to meet his lips. He’s taller than I remember him being. 

His hands slide up my thighs and hook onto my black leggings. He pulls sharply upward so I fall onto my back and my knees are by my breasts. The primal act makes me wetter.

Before I can blink, he has my pants off and I’m left in my baby blue cotton undies and an orange and brown plaid shirt. 

He stops suddenly, stepping back. A slow grin crawls onto his face as he takes me in; legs spread, cunt leaking, lips swollen, eyes pleading. 

“You just gonna look, or are you doing to fuck me?”

“Good to know you haven’t gotten any more patient.” 

I stick my tongue out at him, and with a giggle, he swoops in close to me and captures it between his teeth. He sucks the tip of my tongue into his mouth, his fingers toying with the insides of my thighs. He lets my tongue go in favour of biting my lips.

“You were just begging me two seconds ago.”

“Yeah, but I like seeing you beg better.”

“Ain’t gonna happen, baby boy. I’m still mad at you. So make it up to me and fuck me.”

Suddenly his hand is on my hot cunt and my body jerks. 

“Ah,” I grunt. He rubs my cunt lovingly and slowly. “Ah, fuck.”

“There we go,” he hums to himself. “That’s better.”

I huff at him. “Shut up.”

His fingers slide over the slipperiness of my panties, rubbing my slimy lust all over my nether lips. My body contracts and releases, eager to be filled up to the brim. 

I lean up on my elbow and reach out for him, grabbing his length. His hips buck into my hand, and his beautiful, delicious little moans and whimpers slip from his lips again. Ethan’s eyes fall shut. I tug down his zipper, using my feet to help pull his jeans past his hips. 

His cock sticks hard against the tightness of his little black boxers. It’s darker and damp where the tip rests and I instinctively lick my lips. 

Sucking his dick used to be one of my favourite past times. At one point it had gotten so bad that the tip of his dick started to chap, along with my lips. I just loved the feeling of his hardness in me, and knowing that I was the one that could make him beg, and arch, and moan, and come undone. 

But not tonight.

I lift my hips off the table, working my panties down my legs and onto the floor. 

I can’t believe I’m here again. 

Fuck that, I can’t believe I’m reckless enough to do this at work. 

And the feelings of unease that I expected to come, from being naked and ready for him, curiously don’t show up. It feels as if no time has past. My body is so familiar with his that being nervous doesn’t even occur to me. It feels normal. It feels good. 

“Are you—“

“I swear to God if you ask me if I’m sure, Ethan…” I say, laying back on my elbows and widening my thighs for him, my feet hovering off the table. 

He pushes his boxers further down. His cock is so fucking beautiful. Long and thick and leaking and bubblegum pink at the head, dark curls surrounding the base. 

My pussy clenches at the sight, and I nearly cry at the wave of lust that rocks my body. 

Ethan grabs his dick with one hand and runs his fingers through his blue hair with the other. He than cups my cheek, running his thumb over my jaw. 

I huff, needing him in me so bad that I can’t think straight without it. 

“If you’re not gonna—“ I grab his cock and line him up to my entrance. 

“Shit, Bunny.”

I hook my legs around him, using my ankles to help him plunge into me. 

We moan together as he slowly fills me up, inch by gorgeous inch. I can almost feel my body sigh in relief. 

Ethan wraps his arms around me, pressing his forehead into mine. We stay there for a moment, breathing in each other’s air. 

“You feel so right,” he says softly. “This feels so right.”

I bite my lip, the thickness of his dick stretching me wider than I had been in a very long time. I can’t help but nod because fuck yeah, it does. 

Ethan holds me and I let him set the pace. He pumps into me, slowly enough that I can feel every single inch of him in succession. 

“Please, Ethan. C’mon.”

He hangs his head, sighing into my shoulder. “I’m just trying not to come here.”

I whine, sounding like one of those horny porno girls. 

“I know, I know.” He pulls out, rubbing his cockhead over my clit, sending shivers down my spine. 

He replaces his cockhead with his fingers and slides back inside of me. His fingers make quick work with my clit, rubbing it so perfectly that I already feel my orgasm approaching. 

With every thrust he makes, it rocks my hips back against the table. His hipbones slam against my inner thighs, producing this slapping noise that is almost drowned out by the thunder.

Ethan winds his hand in my hair, pulling my chin up to set a dirty, owning kiss to my lips. He kisses me like he used to do, and I melt into it, allowing myself to remember how good we used to be. We kiss for a long time, lost in each other as he fucks hard into me, his fingers rubbing my sensitive nub incessantly. 

His hips stutter. He’s close.

“Do it.” I pant, trying to catch my breath. “Do it, Ethan.”

He whimpers, pressing his fingers quicker against me and my toes curl. His damp forehead hits my shoulder. Our shameless moans are filling the room. Ethan’s teeth bite sharply into the meat of my shoulder and he grunts. His cock twitches inside of me, and then he’s coming, teeth gnawing harder into my skin. Ethan fills me up with his come and it feels so fucking good. Load after load he squirts inside of me and my cunt squeezes hard against him, milking him until he’s spent.

Ethan stills and I feel my orgasm creeping off. 

He pulls out of me, rubbing the spit from my shoulder. He than kneels onto the dirty floor, his face right in front of my needy and messy cunt. 

No fucking way. 

I stare down at him in awe. Ethan gives me a wink before burying his face in my pussy, hungrily eating my cunt like it’s his last meal. My back arches at the demand of his tongue and I cry out into the ceiling as a burst of thunder shakes the room. My elbows give out and I land flat on my back as he fucks three fingers into me, fucking his come back into my pussy. Already, I’m closer to coming than I was before and I tremble under his doings.

“Ethan! Ethan, oh fuck!” I moan, high and needy. 

My orgasm hits me and my spine lifts off the table, warmth and pleasure and electricity overcoming my body. I cry out his name as if it’s the last thing I’ll ever say. I squeeze around his fingers, a delicious shiver running up my spine. 

I slowly come back down. Feelings of contentedness and bliss wash through me. My body turns pliable and relaxed. Life is always better after an orgasm. 

Ethan stands up, wiping his mouth and doing up his pants. He grabs my panties and I hold my hand out for them. He huffs a laugh at me and tucks them into his back pocket. I grin at him and roll my eyes. 

He does help me get into my leggings though, pulling them over my feet and tugging them over my bum. I note the blush on his cheeks as he dresses me. 

When he meets my eyes again, he gives me a goofy grin and tugs at the back of his hair awkwardly. 

“You still hate me?” He asks. 

I shrug one shoulder. “A little.”

We both smile at each other and I tug him in by his shirt and plant a big kiss on his lips. I feel Ethan’s smile grow larger on my lips and he pulls away. He studies my face, his hazel eyes running over every space of my skin. He cocks his head and twirls a piece of my hair. 

“Would you like to get coffee sometime or…”

“Coffee? Since when do I drink coffee?”

His voice turns high pitched. “I don’t know, people always ask to go for coffee so I thought—“

I laugh at him and he shuts up and tries again.

“Video games?”

“That sounds nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chapped dicks are a thing. Weird, right?


End file.
